A week away
by you're deluded mate
Summary: On 12th August, Carla and Peter fled to a layby for some much needed alone time, but were nowhere to be seen in Weatherfield for a week. What did they actually get up to in their time away?


Woke up in a layby – day 1

The blazing suns' rays darted through the window of the street cars' cab, hitting the interior with a beautiful tint of golden yellow. The comforting warmth touched on Peters' face, disturbing him from his slumber, his eyes fixating to his left side as he awoke. There lay his beautiful, resting girlfriend. Strands of her brunette locks clung to her cheeks as she slept soundly, safe.

Seeing her in that way reminded him of all those years ago, when they'd booked a hotel together, freeing themselves of Leanne, and the awaiting trial of Frank Foster. They'd used that night in 2011 to escape the reality of their lives and making the most out of their little ounce of one and others' company. However, this time was different. They weren't escaping or trying to free themselves, they weren't needing to "make the most" out of anything. This time, they knew that their circumstances were better, they had nothing to hide, no hidden guilt, nothing. They had one and other, they were strong, and that's all they needed.

Peter gently removed the stray locks from her refined cheeks, tucking them neatly behind her ears, not only to assure her comfort, but so that he could simply admire her. The beautiful woman that lay before him never failed to mesmerise. Her heavy, assured breaths causing her bare chest to expand greatly.

Peters' legs remained tucked between Carla's, assuring the pair that they'd never let one and other go again, not this time. The eyes of his lover began to flutter uncomfortably as the golden rays hit the lids of her eyes, a gentle groan escaping her lips, before those deep hazel pools instantly locked with his. A soft, appreciative smile left Carla's lips, as she allowed her hand to rest against Peter's jaw, fondling his beard gently.

"Hey..." She whispered softly, to which Peter responded, firmly holding his lips against hers as they took a deep breath in complete sync. The kiss was soft and gentle, nothing compared to their previous night. Yet they allowed the kiss to linger, enjoying every moment of their touch, despite its' gentle nature.

The kiss lasted for what they wished to be eternity. They enjoyed the moisture of one and others' lips, as well as the warmth of their bodies as the suns' dazzling rays intensified, lifting higher into the crisp morning air.

The layby surrounding them remained silent, all truckers' curtains closed as the nearby motorways' distant engines loomed in the background. The only distinct sound were the appreciative groans from Carla as Peter continued to satisfy her.

They became alerted to the sound of a worn out engine that neared closer by the second, prompting them to lift their heads, disconnecting their lips. The butty van zig zagged through the truckers' terrible parking's, as Carla and Peter observed with discreet giggles.

"It's about flipping time, the butty wagons usually 'ere by 9." He mutters, peering down at his watch, 10:23am. "I want my morning pasty, they're to die for."

"Peter are you sure you haven't taken any of your lady friends here? Seems like you not only keep tabs on my whereabouts but also in this butty waggons'!" She playfully giggled, planting kisses over her lovers' pale forehead. "In fact, I don't even want to know, all that matters is the here and now, living life in the moment." A smile beaming across her face as she gazed at Peter appreciatively.

The pair slip on their clothes from the previous day, giggling as they realise just how unprepared they were when they left Weatherfield the afternoon before, both struggling to slide on their coat in the cramped conditions of the street cars cab. The pair exited the vehicle, their fingers still interlocked, as though they couldn't let go of one and other, before trailing over to the butty waggon, parked on the other end of the lay-by.

They were like a pair of daft teenagers, Carla's arms clinging to Peter playfully as they placed their order of two sausage rolls, a coffee and orange juice. Every spare opportunity they received, as the elderly, fairly big built man turned to pour Carla's coffee, she'd seize, planting kisses on Peter's cheek without warning him, following dirty and playful giggles.

"Here ye are, one coffee, extra strong." The deeply spoken man turned, carefully holding the steaming coffee within his palms, passing it over to Carla above the counter.

"I'm gonna need it after the night I've just had." Carla sniggers, winking at Peter as he chuckles with pure embarrassment, giving Carla a gentle nudge.

"Cheers mate," Peter kindly smiles, blushing slightly as he hands over £3 and collects the sausage rolls and orange juice from the salt covered counter, still not having been cleaned from the evening before's chip servings.

The pair munched on their sausage rolls on the way back to the cab, their lack of conversation truly showing how much the pastries WERE to die for. They needed no words to be able to express their content, Carla lent her head onto Peter's shoulder tiredly whilst continuing to pick at the steaming sausage roll, the pair eventually reaching the cab and slumping down beside its' bonnet.

As soon as the sausage roll had been devoured, Carla buried her head under Peter's neck, protecting her from the cool, crisp August air. The suns' rays added a touch of warmth to her face, however, not enough to prevent the Goosebumps prickling her spine.

She felt his firm spare hand combing his way through her locks, a feeling she'd missed so greatly. Since the moment he'd found her crying in Roy's rolls, with the guilt of Rana's death on her conscience, he knew that he was never going to leave her. For the last three months he'd never wanted to let go of her, yet this feeling was different. The feeling of mutual happiness, the feeling that the pair felt content in one and others' company, and the feeling that they were finally at peace with themselves. Peter had no alcoholic temptation to satisfy, because Carla's love had replaced that. To have Peter, Carla knew that she was safe and protected from any danger. She knew that he'd always try to do right by her, and that she was safe, forever more.


End file.
